The Magical Properties of Tequila
by lynn.reist
Summary: His proper name feels foreign and clumsy rolling off her tongue, but she likes it. Angsty Drabble, Yuffentine. Warning: Character Death


_**Author's Note:** A short drabble of complete and utter angsty sorrow. Slightly AU, told from Yuffie's point of view after Vincent is found and taken to WRO medical facilities after Omega._

* * *

"...And you would be the prince and I would be the princess, duh, because I am, and you would rescue me from the drooling giant who wants to grind me up and feed me to her children. But then, because she's only doing what she has to to survive, you kill Cid and let her feed _him_ to the babies instead, so that they will survive, but I can go free."

The Kunoichi sighs, smoothing the gunslinger's bangs away from his face. His skin is hot to the touch, and she can feel dampness from sweat in his hair.

"When this is all over we'll go back to Tifa's bar and I'll get you good and drunk. I think you have a weakness to tequila. I've never seen you drink it before, but tequila gets the best of us-- even Barret. Anyway, once you're nice and sloshed, I'll take you upstairs and protect you from the drunk chicks trying to get in those tight leather pants of yours, because you're all mine-- you just don't know it yet. But you'll know. Oh, you'll know when you wake up the next morning with the biggest hangover on the planet, and you find me sleeping on a really uncomfy chair beside your bed, because I was taking care of you all night. Just like I am now. Only then you'll know you love me, because I won't be smelly and ugly like I am now." She smiles weakly, pushing a lock of her greasy hair behind her ear. "Except then you won't care what I look like. You won't care that I smell like a monster puked me up, or that I look like I haven't showered in five weeks, because you'll be in love with me. You won't care that I don't have long chestnut hair, or long flirty eyelashes, or that I hate wearing skirts and I've never owned a lab coat, because you'll be in love with me; and not her.

"Maybe it's the tequila that finally knocks some sense into you," she continues, musing aloud. "And then suddenly that day, (when all of this is over) you'll look at me and see me for me, and not look at me and see how much about me is not the same as her. I can't be her, I don't want to be her, and you don't want me to be her either. Heck, I don't think you even want her to be her. You want a woman who looks like Lucrecia, feels like Lucrecia, sounds like Lucrecia, but you want a better person. You want someone who will never ever hurt you like Lucrecia did."

She watches as his lips form the syllables of that cursed name, and she smiles bitterly. What she wouldn't give to have him whisper her name with such conviction, such unabashed devotion. "It's not my fault I'm from Wutai: I can't help that I've got darker hair, or that I'm more tawny because of my pro-ninja-skillz, and it's totally not my fault that I've got this funky accent going on. But you've got to believe me, Vinnie-- I would _never_ hurt you like she did. Let go of her laugh, let go of her eyes. Maybe the tequila will help. The tequila _does_ help!" She lapses into her fairytale again. "Because all of the sudden you wake up with a head splitting ache in your brain and you see me in the chair and you just _know_ that you love me."

The ninja's eyes cloud with tears, and she tries to blink them away before any get away. One escapes and lands on his face: at the rate of his increasing temperature she is surprised that it doesn't sizzle on contact.

"You realize you love me even more than her, and you won't be afraid, Vinnie. Not even a little bit." She can feel her throat closing in, and her sight is swimming behind salty droplets. "You know why? Because something in that tequila makes you wake up to reality, and you understand that the world isn't out to get you, Vincent." His proper name feels foreign and clumsy rolling off her tongue, but she likes it. She wonders if he likes it too. "You realize that there is still good in the world, there is still peace, and I swear to Leviathan, Vincent Valentine, there is love." A shakey pale ninja hand reaches out to touch his face again, and she is surprised to find it is cool. "Vinnie? Oh Gawd, has your fever broken? Can you hear me? He's okay! Cid! Cid, get over here! Bring Reeve! Bring a doctor! Oh Gawd, Vinnie, it's okay! I'm here- I'm here! Can you hear me? I love you, I love you! There's love, Vinnie, there's love and it's right here. I'm right here!" She doesn't care that there are tears streaming down her face, because somewhere in the back of her mind her brain has registered the shrill unending beep from the monitors that are hooked up to the gunman.

She feels two pairs of strong hands on her arms and she is gently pried away, but not before she presses a kiss to his cold unmoving lips; the lips that had uttered a name that wasn't hers only seconds before his death.

* * *

_**Author's Note:** You have no idea how close to home this hits. I think that may be why I love Yuffietine's so much. Tell me what you think, it's very drabbly, not much plot here, but I loved the way the whole thing is a story within a story, all told by Yuffie in her own very unique way. Oh, ps. Don't kill me for killing Vinnie. I mentioned it was slightly AU, so you were warned. I'd love to hear what you thought of this: drop me a line, and thanks for reading!_

* * *


End file.
